


It Was Only a Kiss

by golden_ratio



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twins, M/M, One-Sided Enjolras/Grantaire, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:24:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4435367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_ratio/pseuds/golden_ratio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Enjolras will know, there’s no way he won’t." </p><p>Grantaire pretends to be his twin brother Alexandre, who is dating Enjolras. Originally a part of a more elaborate au where Grantaire has an identical twin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i think i actually posted part of the original fic on here a long time ago, i wonder if anyone remembers... this is something i ran across while looking through my drive. i was pretty proud of it at the time, so although i won't be posting the rest of this au, you can still enjoy this little offshoot. originally written april 2013.

_This is such a bad idea_ , Grantaire thinks as he struggles to tame his mess of curls. He really doesn’t know how Alexandre keeps his hair so neat.

_Enjolras will know, there’s no way he won’t_. Yet he continues untangling his hair. He even shaves for the first time in months.

He doesn’t even know why he’s doing this, why he’s bothering.

He supposes it’s a sort of last effort to show Enjolras that maybe he’s worth something. That maybe he could be as good as his brother. That maybe he’s not useless.

He knows none of these things are true.

When he thinks he looks halfway presentable, he leaves the bathroom. He grabs some of Alexandre’s clothes from the closet and puts them on. They fit quite well despite their different builds.

When he’s all finished, he ends up looking remarkably like his twin. Usually it is very easy to tell them apart with Grantaire’s slouched posture and haggard appearance.

_Enjolras will be able to tell_ , he thinks bitterly and frowns at himself in the mirror.

Grantaire hears the door open. _Moment of truth_.

He walks into the next room to meet Enjolras as Alexandre usually does.

Enjolras is putting his things away when Grantaire enters.

“Welcome home.” Grantaire tries his hardest to mimic his brother’s intonation. He tenses when Enjolras turns, fully anticipating being recognized. But nothing happens, he sees a flash of something in Enjolras’ eyes, but it’s gone quickly.

“I thought you were coming home late tonight?” he questions.

Grantaire clears his throat. He didn’t think he would get this far, he has no story prepared.

“I wasn’t feeling well, so I left early.” He’s convinced Enjolras can see him lying. But still he makes no accusations.

Enjolras smiles softly, a smile that is never directed at Grantaire. A smile he dreams about. Grantaire feels as if he might faint.

“Are you alright?” Enjolras asks, bringing his hand to feel Grantaire’s forehead.

Grantaire resists the urge recoil from the touch. It is a touch that it not meant for him. It’s a touch he doesn’t deserve. _This is wrong, this is so wrong._

At the same time he loves the feeling of Enjolras’ skin on his skin. He has lusted for it long enough.

“Enjolras,” he breathes, needing to close the gap between them but unwilling to make the first move. This will probably be the only moment when Enjolras does not look upon him with pity or annoyance, but with concern. Grantaire revels in it, he wants to memorize this expression so he may recall it whenever he may need to.

Enjolras moves his hand to Grantaire’s cheek, cupping it gently. Grantaire keeps his hands firmly planted at his sides, though he wants nothing more than to grab Enjolras’ hand and never let go.

“Are you alright?” Enjolras repeats.

Grantaire shudders. “No. I’m not.”

The hand is removed and Grantaire barely resists the urge to protest — what results is a sort of squeaking noise. Enjolras’ smile breaks into a laugh at the sound.

“Please,” Grantaire says, at this point he doesn’t even know what he’s begging for. For Enjolras’ hand back, maybe. But more likely for Enjolras to not see through the poor illusion, for this moment to go on.

“I love you,” Enjolras says. Words that are meant for Alexandre. Words that are not meant for Grantaire. Words that have so much power. Words that cut through Grantaire, cut right through his core. Because he knows they will never be said, not to him.

Grantaire’s response gets stuck in his throat. He can’t speak. He can’t move. He feels like he’s drowning in all the words he wants to say, all the words he cannot say.

It isn’t fair. Enjolras is cruel for making him feel this way. He loves Enjolras. But Enjolras will never love him.

He had thought he came to terms with that fact long ago. But when Enjolras kisses him (something he had been fantasizing about for god knows how long), he can’t help but think that maybe Enjolras could love him, someday.

Their lips melt together and Grantaire’s fingers weave through the golden curls that are tickling his nose.

The kiss is over just as suddenly as it had begun.

“Grantaire.”

And with that single word he knows his illusion is broken, shattered.

“You knew,” Grantaire says. It is not a question.

“Yes.”

“Then why?”

Enjolras avoids Grantaire’s gaze. “I don’t know.”

“I do not want your pity, Enjolras.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

Grantaire holds up a hand to silence the golden god. “Thank you,” he says, and he means it. He’s not even sure why he means it. It was selfish, what Enjolras did. And perhaps that’s why he means it. Somewhere inside, Enjolras had wanted this. Enjolras had wanted _Grantaire_.

And that was all Grantaire had ever wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The same events from Enjolras' perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my original au Alexandre was based off of Athelstan from Vikings, which is why Enjolras mentions him being at a church event.

Enjolras arrives home earlier than he expects. Alexandre will still be out at that church event, so he could get some studying done while he has the place to himself.

He goes inside and is setting his things on the counter when he hears someone enter the room.

“Welcome home.” Alexandre’s voice? But something’s not quite right about it. Enjolras turns and sees his boyfriend standing there. But after a moment of inspection, he knows it is not Alexandre.

Grantaire looks like his brother in almost every way, but he still has his slouch, and he didn’t hide the dark circles under his eyes. Grantaire also has a whole different air about him. The way he holds himself is different. His eyes are different. There are a lot of things that are different.

Enjolras doesn’t know why he plays along, but he does.

“I thought you were coming home late tonight?” It is at that time when it becomes abundantly clear that this is not Alexandre. Grantaire looks surprised, and he struggles to come up with an answer.

“I wasn’t feeling well, so I left early.”

It is such an obvious lie, but Enjolras still doesn’t call him out. Instead he smiles.

And that really affects Grantaire. His eyes turn sad. Enjolras can only imagine what’s going through his mind.

“Are you alright?” Enjolras asks. He hesitates for a moment, then places his hand gently on Grantaire’s forehead. And he can _feel_ Grantaire inhale, his fingers twitch at his sides.

Grantaire breathes Enjolras’ name.

He should stop this. He doesn’t fully understand why he’s doing this. But he won’t break the illusion, not yet. His hand moves to cup Grantaire’s cheek and Grantaire looks as if he might cry.

“Are you alright?” Enjolras asks again.

He watches as shudders pass through Grantaire’s frame. “No. I’m not.”

Enjolras removes his hand and is met with a sound of protest from the other. He laughs before he can stop himself. He knew Grantaire had a thing for him —there were only a few who _didn’t_ know— he just didn’t realize how intense it was.

“Please,” Grantaire begs. His hands have tightened themselves into fists in an attempt to control himself, Enjolras guesses.

Enjolras knows what he wants, knows what he’s wanted for a long time.

“I love you.” The words even surprise Enjolras. He’s only ever said them to Alexandre, and even then it’s rare. He says them now because there was a time where they were meant for Grantaire. That time has long passed, but he doesn’t feel wrong in saying them now.

Grantaire struggles to speak. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

Enjolras puts him out of his misery by bringing their lips together. Grantaire doesn’t taste of alcohol and tobacco as Enjolras had expected; instead he tastes of mint toothpaste. He feels Grantaire’s hands, finally released from fists, tangle themselves in his golden curls. The feeling is not at all unpleasant.

Enjolras pulls away after a few moments. It’s time to end this.

“Grantaire,” he says, hoping the meaning is clear.

Grantaire understands. “You knew.”

“Yes,” Enjolras replies. He wants to say more, but the right words don’t find him.

“Then why?” Grantaire demands, but he is not angry.

Enjolras finds that he can’t meet Grantaire’s gaze. _Because I’m selfish_ , he wants to say, _Because I loved you_. What comes out is “I don’t know.”

“I do not want your pity, Enjolras.”

Pitying Grantaire is something Enjolras is, in fact, guilty of. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

Grantaire raises a hand to silence him. Then Grantaire _thanks_ him.

Enjolras, for once, is speechless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of a sad ending, but i seem to remember that's what i was going for :P. thanks for reading! 
> 
> edit: to those asking, i have no plans to continue/finish this au at this time. but who knows, maybe ill come back around to it someday


End file.
